


Enfants de Sang

by EnolaRaven



Category: Peter Pan - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-14
Updated: 2004-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnolaRaven/pseuds/EnolaRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two pirates pay the price when they discover Peter Pan's sinister secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enfants de Sang

**Author's Note:**

> _A/N: This is based on Fox's "Peter Pan and the Pirates", as are pretty much all of my fics. In this version, Billy Jukes is a boy pirate, probably aged 13-15 (its hard to tell with toons). Robert Mullins is a middle-aged pirate that took Billy under his wing when he first joined the Jolly Roger. Slightly befriended Jukes in one episode by helping to save Mullins's life. _

**   
_Enfants de Sang_   
**

Mullins scowled across the dark water, frowning at the shoreline which was obscured by the foggy night. Starkey should have been on watch tonight, but Mullins couldn't sleep and had relieved the man with a curt, "Leave or I'll kill you." The gentleman pirate had merely nodded and scurried below to his bunk. Everyone on the ship knew not to goad Mullins, not after what had happened today. Even Hook had given the man a pitying nod after the raid and left Mullins alone.

"How could he?" Robert growled softly, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles popped. Billy Jukes had been his friend – he loved the boy like a _son_, and the youth's defection to the Lost Boys and Pan was a blow to the man's heart. It was a blow to the entire ship's morale. While Hook could feel some sympathy for Mullins, he'd spare none for Jukes if he ever got his claw on him. The only person who would scream more before he died would be Pan – and not by much.

Three days ago, Hook had led yet another expedition to the island to find Pan and the Lost Boys, leaving only Cookson behind to watch the ship. They'd tromped about for hours, and no one knew exactly _when_ Billy had gone missing. Mullins had turned at one point to ask the boy a question when he'd suddenly realized he was gone. They'd backtracked, yelling for the gunner and at last found his red bandana lying beneath an old holly tree. The cloth had been damp – damp with blood.

For three days, Mullins had searched for the boy, his land-sickness forgotten in his worry and grief - three days of combing the forest, calling Billy's name in ever-waning hopes that he'd be answered. He expected to find Jukes's body beneath every bush, to see dead eyes stare at him in each clearing. But there was nothing, not a trace of the boy to be found. Three nights of lying awake in his hammock, wondering, or tossing in fitful nightmares only to awaken again with the missing child's name on his lips.

And today, an hour before sunset, not long after Hook had literally dragged Robert back to the ship, Billy had come back. With friends.

"Why?" Robert asked quietly, laying his forehead against the railing. He could guess why, and he couldn't really blame the boy. That is, he couldn't _logically_ blame Billy, but his heart screamed in rage and grief, filled with a sense of loss and abandonment he'd not cared enough about anyone else to feel in a long time.

Laughter had interrupted Mullins as he'd ranted to Hook, trying to convince the man to continue the search for Billy. Pan's crow had rent the air even as the men turned, and they'd looked up to behold the approaching Lost Boy raiding party, eight boys strong. Eight boys, and neither of the Darling lads with them. Mullins's heart had given a lurch of relief when he'd seen the dark-skinned pirate boy, but then he'd realized that Billy was _flying_. Billy was flying with the Lost Boys, laughing and shouting challenges with the others as he followed Pan.

The other men had snapped to it when Hook began bellowing orders to draw weapons and ready Long Tom. Not Mullins, though. Robert had just stood there and watched with dumb fascination as Billy and two other brats cut the rigging and dropped the top sail; as Billy swooped down to guard Nibs's back while the boy dueled Starkey; as Billy tripped Smee and sent the old bastard overboard, laughing and jeering in delight. Laughing… he hadn't heard Billy laugh like that, _ever_. The boy had sounded genuinely happy, with a ringing innocence to his voice he doubted Billy had possessed since shortly after learning to talk. It was a sound echoed by the laughter of the other children. And when the boy had stood, he'd stood straight, his manner without fear or nervousness and lacking the cowering servility that years of beatings had instilled in him. It was they way Billy _should_ have been, if he'd never set foot on the deck of a ship.

"I wanted you to be happy, Billy," Mullins growled. Billy had never truly been happy in all the years Robert had known him. "If I'd known goin' over to the enemy would make ya happy…" he sighed, not sure if he could have supported the boy's defection or not.

"Would you have let me go?" Billy's voice asked as if reading his thoughts. Mullins whirled around to see the boy standing not four paces away. "Or would you have told Hook and let him execute me for mutiny?"

"You stupid li'l son of a whore, of _course_ I'd 'a let you go!" Mullins hissed, mindful of Hook's penchant for sleeping lightly. No matter how betrayed Robert might feel about Billy leaving him, he'd never do anything that would jeopardize the boy's life… and if Hook saw Jukes here right now, the boy's life would be forfeit. He glared at the boy, noting the subtle changes in both his appearance and demeanor. Billy looked younger, fresher and more alive. Gone were the perpetual dark circles around the boy's eyes, replaced by a sparkle that had only graced those orbs when dreams of invention gave the lad something useful to live for. His bandanna was gone – Mullins had been wearing it as a memento since he'd found it – but now the boy wore a wolf pelt atop his head, following the Lost Boy tradition of wearing animal skin caps.

"Then why are you angry?" Billy asked, a trace of unease marring his young face. "Why aren't you happy for me? It hurt to hear you screaming those awful words at me when we left. I'd hoped you'd understand and let me go."

"Do you have _any _idea how terrified I've been for the past three days?" Mullins snarled, his volatile emotions welling up as relief turned to anger. "No trace of you but a bloody piece of cloth! Do you know how many different way's I've seen you die every time I closed my eyes?" He advanced on Billy, moving so quickly that he managed to snatch the ex-pirate's cap off before the boy could move out of reach again.

Robert shook the cap at him angrily. "I been sick with worry, prayin' like I ain't prayed for _years_, and where were you? Off playin' with those brats!" He realized with disgust that the fur in his hands was rather fresh, the skin uncured and moist. He threw the cap at Billy's feet, his face flushed with anger. "You could'a _told_ me, boy! You could'a said goodbye."

"I couldn't come, not until today," Billy answered, picking up his cap and fidgeting with it. "I was sick."

"Sick," Mullins spat. "You were fine when you went missing and ya look fine now. Never thought I'd live to hear you lie to me."

Billy glared at Mullins then, insulted. "I've never lied to you, Robert. And I _didn't_ come here to apologize."

"Why _did_ you come, then?" Robert asked sharply. "Did your new friends dare you? Did you come here to pull some fool pranks on your old shipmates?"

"I came here to cut ties, and to find out how things stand between us," Billy answered, still fidgeting with his cap. "I'm supposed to turn my back on you, but I can't. I don't want to kill you in a battle, but I'll defend myself if I have to. I want to know what you'll do if you face me in a fight."

"If there's a battle," Mullins said coldly, "I'll fight. And if I cross blades with you, you'd better give me all you've got, same as any other Lost Boy."

"Well then, there's your answer, Ash," Pan announced, drifting down from a yard arm to hover just behind the boy. "I told you: you can't trust grown-ups. He isn't your friend anymore, so there's no problem now. Let's go." There was a quiet murmur as several childish voices added their agreement.

Mullins glanced around quickly, seeing the rest of Pan's pack step from their hiding places or emerge from the fog that had cloaked them. He was surrounded, but he was loath to call the alarm. This might be the last time he could ever speak with Billy.

"I don't want to kill you in a fight, Robert," Billy said softly, his eyes pleading. "And I don't wanna lose you as a fath… friend."

"Then turn your back on these whelps and stay here," Robert advised, feeling an awful conflict ripping at his heart. He wanted Billy to be happy, and if he was this changed after only a few days, then becoming a Lost Boy was the best thing for the lad. But he couldn't deny reality, and the reality was that pirates and Lost Boys were enemies. Neither Hook nor Pan allowed for fence-sitters, and Mullins didn't want to have to declare this boy his enemy.

"I can't be a pirate anymore," Billy sighed. "It's too late, that part of my life's done."

"Just tell Hook you were under a spell!" Robert pleaded. "Tell him you were tryin' to spy the brats out! Yer too useful to him, he'll take ya back if you give him even a flimsy excuse."

"You don't understand! I _can't_ come back. I _can't_ go back to being a pirate. I'm…" he paused when Peter's hand clamped upon his shoulder, Tinker Bell hissing at him to be silent. Billy bit his lip in misery and lowered his head.

"It's time to go," Tink scolded, glaring at Peter. "He's cut his ties, and he knows that Mr. Mullins will stand against him like the rest of the pirates will. His old life is dead; it's time to take him home."

"Why? Why can't you stay?" Mullins pressed, wondering what Billy may have gotten himself into. If he'd been coerced into joining Pan's band, if he was being forced to stay against his will, then Mullins wasn't going to rest until he'd brought his boy home.

"If you tell him," Peter said quietly, looking at Billy, "he'll have to choose, just like you chose. We can't risk him telling."

"Peter!" Tink yelped. "You can't let that pirate choose! No grownups are allowed!" Pan merely flicked his hand at her in mild annoyance, his attention on Billy.

"I can't tell him," Billy said quietly, a small tear trickling from his eye. "He'll hate me for sure then, and I can't watch him die. Let's just go."

"Choose _what?_" Mullins asked, his voice becoming louder. "Billy, tell me what's wrong! Yer like a son to me, and if you're in trouble then _tell me_ so I can help!"

Billy shook his head, his feet lifting from the deck, but Peter grinned at the man, his manner becoming almost predatory. "If Billy tells you, you'll have to leave the ship and make a choice. You can choose to become like us, or you can die. Either way, today will have been your last day as a pirate. So think carefully. Do you _really_ want to know?"

"I'm a little old ta be a Lost Boy," Mullins chuckled, and the boys around him laughed too. Neither Jukes nor Pan joined in.

"I said 'like us' not 'one of us'," Peter corrected. "The fairies don't want adults who are like us in Neverland, but I'm sure they won't get too upset over just one." He glared at Tink, as if daring her to gainsay him. The pixie looked extremely upset, but she held her tongue. "I'll just have to keep you properly fed. We can't have Indians dying left and right."

"What?" Mullins asked, cold fear clawing at his gut – fear for himself and for the boy he'd loved like a son. "What have you done? What are you and what have you done to Billy?"

Billy's eyes widened at the question, and he shook his head in dismay. Peter, however, smiled even more and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving the pirate's. "You asked and you'll have your answer… but not here. I don't want Codfish overhearing. I'm not ready to end our game tonight."

Hands gripped the man's arms and legs, small fingers finding purchase on his ragged clothing. Mullins jerked in surprise and cried out, but his shout was muffled by more hands on his mouth. He struggled against the hands, becoming panicked when they lifted him into the air, but he couldn't shake their unnaturally strong hold on him. Childish giggling mocked him for the futility of his efforts. The ship disappeared into the fog and Mullins quit squirming, knowing that if he got loose now he'd fall. He heard Billy's voice nearby, speaking to Slightly, and the man strained to hear the words. He desperately needed to figure out what was going on.

"I didn't want this. I just wanted to say goodbye," the ex-gunner said. He sounded like he was crying.

"Peter slightly told you you'd have to cut all ties to your old life, Ash," the blond reminded him. "Mr. Mullins is an awfully big tie, and he's strong enough to pull you back. Just be glad Peter might not have to kill him."

"I think he'd choose death," Billy said so softly that Robert could barely hear him. "I can't… I can't watch him die."

Robert frowned, his anxiety increasing. Why would he choose death? What could be so terrible that death would be a better alternative? Mullins could conceive of a great many terrible and down-right evil things, but nothing so bad he'd rather die. He was a pirate after all, and a pirate was considered by most of the civilized world to be something vile and terrible already.

Cold air assailed him and the voices became muted. It was a moment before Mullins realized they were in a cave, and by the sound of water lapping below him, he guessed they were following the underground river. He'd been here before with Hook, searching out Pan's lair, so it wasn't much of a stretch for him to deduce that that's where he was being carried.

They arrived all too soon, and Robert let out a yelp as the hands supporting him suddenly dropped him onto a well-swept earthen floor. Mullins picked himself up gingerly, dusting his pants off with a growled string of curses. A girl's shriek made him start, and he looked up to see Wendy standing beside a fireplace with a ladle in her hand, staring at him in horror.

"Peter! You brought _him here_?" Wendy shouted angrily. "Why?"

"Curly," Peter ordered, ignoring the girl, "take Wendy and her brothers to her house. They don't need to be here tonight." Mullins felt the knot of dread in his gut tighten, and he reached for his sword only to find it gone. He guessed that one of the brats had removed it sometime during the flight.

"I will not…" Wendy began indignantly.

"You will go _now_," Peter interrupted her, crossing his arms. "This isn't a game, Wendy. Go now, or you'll be dragged out. It's for your own good." Wendy's eyes went wide at the boy's threat and she spun on her heel with an angry sniff. She flew outside, followed by her bewildered brothers and a giggling Curly.

"Everyone else, wait up top. I'll call you when it's done," Peter ordered. The boys obeyed without a word, all except for Jukes. The ex-pirate didn't stir, twirling his cap in his hands nervously. Tinker Bell flew to her little house and pulled the curtains tight, unwilling to bear witness to whatever Peter intended.

"When what's done?" Mullins queried suspiciously.

"Billy's explanation," Peter answered, smiling as he sat on the bed, reclining against some pillows. "I couldn't risk the other men coming to investigate your screams if you turn into the superstitious, gibbering idiot I expect when you hear the truth."

"I think I can handle anything Billy throws at me," Mullins growled, insulted. He _was_ superstitious, but when one was trapped on a magical island it was wise to be prudent and take magical precautions. He'd certainly dealt with everything Neverland had thrown at him… a gibbering idiot he was _not_. "I'm already expecting the worst, and the truth can't be nearly as bad as that."

"Really?" Pan laughed, his eyes wide with amusement. "Mr. Mullins, you have no idea. If you can handle this, then I'll consider you a worthy addition to our little family."

Robert ignored that comment. He had his own ideas about Pan's 'choice' of death or conscription. He was a pirate and he'd be damned before he let some snot-nosed urchin force him to do anything. He turned his attention to Billy, who was still worrying his cap while refusing to meet the man's eyes. "Why did you leave me, Billy?" he asked.

Billy looked around the room, a small smile playing on his lips. "This place is pure genius. It's so well hidden, Hook will _never_ find it. We walked right over it and never suspected. Except…" he chuckled, "_I_ noticed something. I saw a crack in a tree. I almost shrugged it off, most trees have cracks and holes and stuff. But about ten steps later I realized that crack looked awfully unnatural. It was too straight and regular. Another ten steps later I decided it might be worth looking into, so I doubled back to check it out. I thought it was nothing, and I didn't wanna piss off th' Cap'n by bothering him over a crack in a tree. So I found it again and investigated. I found a door."

"And ya didn't call for us?" Mullins interrupted. "You found th' entrance to their hideout and ya didn't tell?"

"I found their house, and I _did_ turn around to come get you," Billy snapped, glaring at Robert. "Once that door opened, I heard them all down here talking and I _knew_ what it was I'd found. But I didn't get two steps. Twins had the entrances alarmed. Peter heard me and came after me. I…" he started wringing his cap again, staring at the floor. "I _couldn't_ come to you after that. And when he was done, I wasn't a pirate anymore. My place is here now. The Lost Boys are my family."

Robert glared at Pan for a moment, but the boy merely watched Billy, ignoring the man. The eternal youth wasn't smiling now, and his expression seemed both calculating and concerned. "What did Pan do to you?" Mullins asked.

Billy laughed then, tossing his cap in the air and catching it on his head. He fitted it in place, the grey wolf ears standing up as if listening attentively. "Like my new hat? I killed it myself, Robert. Last night. With my bare hands."

"Ya need to cure it," Robert commented in annoyance, wondering why the boy kept changing the subject. Slowly, Billy's words sunk in and he realized it wasn't just idle chatter. "You killed a wolf with yer bare hands?"

Billy smiled again and a hint of pride lit his eyes. "It's the custom for a new boy to go out on his first hunt alone. He kills the first animal he finds and wears the skin afterwards as a trophy. Our first kill, proving we're strong enough to find our own blood. We leave our old life behind with that kill, severing all ties. Billy Jukes died three days ago, when he stumbled on Peter Pan's hideout. Last night I was born again, and my new name is Ash." He chuckled a little at that. "Peter said my skin tasted like ash, from all my time with the forge. I had to take a new name, to help leave my old life behind. But even then I couldn't just let go. All the other boys could do it because they left everything they were back in the mortal world, with an ocean and fairy magic between them and their old lives. But my life was _already_ here. Hook and his men and the ship weren't so important, I'd have had no problem disowning them. But you… I couldn't let you go. I thought I could, but when we came to the ship today and you called me a traitor and worse, it hurt me so much. I love you like a father and I can't forget that."

"So Pan decided that your feelings for me makes you vulnerable, and maybe I'd try to get you to make you betray them?" Mullins guessed.

"Something like that," Peter yawned, stretching a little before rising from the bed. "Or maybe I didn't want Ash to have to watch you grow old and die. Maybe I didn't want him to see you begin to hate him, or find himself in a fight trying to decide if he can kill you or if he should let you kill _him_." Peter laughed as he floated to stand just beside the other boy. "Or maybe I was jealous that he had someone that loved him. Maybe I wanted to see how having a real father in the family would be like."

"You sound like you've thought about this a lot," Mullins said dryly. "Never knew Peter Pan was capable of thinking."

Peter laughed again. "I try to avoid it whenever possible. But when I have to, you'd be amazed at the things I can think of. Right now I'm thinking of all the ways I can kill you if that's your choice."

"Billy ain't told me nothing' worth dying for," Mullins snorted, "and I don't see you forcing me to jump ship to stay here."

"Tell him, Ash," Peter said quietly, "or I will _show_ him."

Billy bit his lip, fighting his urge to run. He just knew Mullins would react badly, and he feared for his friend's safety. "When Peter caught me, he bit me." He looked up at Robert then, his eyes wide with memory and fear. "He bit me on my neck." He waited to see if his friend would understand, and by the horror creeping into Mullins's eyes he knew he had.

"He bit you…" Mullins repeated numbly, the clues clicking together in his mind. Billy had been sick. He killed a wolf with his bare hands… to prove he's strong enough to find his own blood. _Billy Jukes died three days ago._ He turned to stare at Pan, seeing the way the boy watched him intently, looking for his reaction. "You're a… vampire?" he whispered, his mind beginning to list all the ways it was impossible.

"Yep," Peter replied, still watching the man carefully. If Mullins tried anything stupid, he'd be dead before he got two steps. "Have been since before I came to Neverland."

"But… that's impossible," Mullins stuttered, really wishing he knew where his sword was. His eyes darted about, looking for a weapon. "You fly around in the daylight! Vampires can't do that!"

Peter giggled at the man. "I can in Neverland. When I go to the real world, I can only be out at night. Neverland's magic protects me from most of my kind's weaknesses."

"I ain't heard of anyone else being bitten. If yer a bloodsucker, why haven't you killed all us pirates, or the Indians?"

Billy spoke up then. "We don't have to have human blood, only adults ever want it. Child vampires can drink animal blood and be fine. Once every few weeks we'll go hunt an animal, the rest of the time we eat normal food." He gave the man a tentative smile, hoping to calm him down. "It's not so bad, Robert. We don't have to hurt anyone. I know what you think about vampires, that we're monsters like werewolves and zombies and ghouls… but it's not like that, not for real."

Mullins stepped back, keeping his eyes on the two boys. "It ain't you I'm worried about, Billy," he growled. "You keep back from me, monster," he pointed at Peter, his hands shaking ever so slightly. "Ya ain't makin' me into one of yer monsters."

"Is that your choice, Mullins?" Peter asked. "Do you really think living forever is so terrible that you'd rather I killed you? You're not going back to the ship, I can promise you that. Even if you got past me, the only way out is to fly and you'll never survive the underground river if you try to swim it. Besides, you won't get past me."

"Billy," Mullins glanced at the other boy, his eyes pleading, "I'm yer friend. I don't care what this little bastard's done to you, you can't turn your back on me. Ya know I've always been there for ya."

"I can't stop him, Robert," Billy replied, his voice breaking as tears began to fall. "I belong to the Lost Boys now… I belong to Peter. Please, Robert, don't make him kill you. Please, I don't want to lose you."

Robert's leg bumped against a stool and he picked it up quickly, thankful for something to use as a weapon. "Ain't no whelp gonna kill me, Billy, I don't care how pointy his teeth are."

Peter grinned widely, showing his teeth, and to Mullins's rising horror he watched as the boy's canines rapidly extended, becoming _very _long and sharp. "It isn't just my pointy teeth that make me dangerous, Mr. Mullins," the boy said lowly. "I'm faster than you, stronger than you, and hitting me with a stool won't even slow me down." He took a step towards the man, body tensed to attack at any moment.

Robert grimaced and slammed the stool against the floor, smashing it and leaving only two jagged sticks of wood in his hands. The broken end of one of these looked sharp enough to pierce flesh, so the man tossed the other one aside and wielded his makeshift stake threateningly. "I wonder if killing you will free Billy and those other kids from yer curse. I'll just have to put this in your black heart and see." When Peter chuckled at him again and took another step forward, Mullins lunged forwards with a cry, intending to slay the monster that had subverted his friend.

Billy was between them in a flash, hissing threateningly with his fangs extended, blocking a clear shot at Pan with his own body. Mullins raised his arms to knock the boy aside, but Jukes's hands grasped him by the wrists and the man realized with shock that he couldn't break the boy's vice-like grip. "Lemme go, Billy. I won't let that monster turn me into a demon."

"Kill him," Pan said coldly, and when Robert glanced at him he could have sworn he saw a trace of regret in those inhuman eyes.

Billy howled in frustration and pain, and with a sudden twist of Mullins's arms, forced the man to drop his weapon. Another moment later, Robert found himself with his back against the wall, Billy holding him there effortlessly. "I'm sorry, Robert," the boy whispered. "If you won't join, I have to kill you."

"Billy, for the love of God…" Mullins pled, trying to reason with his friend and former shipmate.

"My name is Ash," the boy hissed, tears still rolling from his eyes. "There is no Billy and there is no God." One hand grabbed the man's neck, forcing his head to the side to better expose the vein in his throat. "Forgive me," Billy whispered, then lunged forward to sink his fangs into Robert's neck. He gave a choked moan as the first of the hot, _human_ blood spurted into his mouth, and then his hunger awoke and he began to feed.

Mullins's eyes went wide when he felt teeth pierce his flesh, but resistance against the boy's hold was futile. Then he heard Billy – no, _Ash_ – moan, and all of Robert's struggles ceased as a strange euphoria filled him. He could feel the boy's lips on his neck; feel the gentle but insistent suction against his skin. His heart beat loudly, echoing in time with Ash's feeding. Somehow this felt right, felt _good_, and his hands crept up to hold the boy closer to him, his head turning aside even more to offer better access. His vision began to dim, objects in his field of view spinning while the colors began to bleed together. He closed his eyes tightly, knowing he'd never open them again. His slowing pulse pounded in his ears, his heart weakening as it struggled to maintain circulation of its steadily decreasing blood supply.

He was dying. He knew it and he couldn't seem to care. He would die, but his Billy would live. Billy needed him, needed his blood, and he gave it up willingly now, taking pleasure in knowing that his death would make his boy stronger. "I love you, Billy," he whispered, meaning it with all of his dying heart. He just wished he'd said it a long time ago, when it could have made a difference somehow.

Words. Someone was speaking, a familiar voice punctuated by sobs. _Billy? Why is Billy crying? If Hook hit him again I'll kill him!_ Mullins struggled to open his eyes and with a supreme effort he managed. Dim images registered, and he saw that he was sitting on the floor facing Billy, his back against the wall. The boy was sitting across from him, huddled into a ball of misery, crying hysterically. Blood covered his chin, dripping onto his shirt and pants._ He hurt himself?_

"I can't…" Billy whimpered. "Peter I can't. I love him; please don't make me do it."

Peter sighed, kneeling between the man and the boy. "It needs to be finished; he'll just suffer and die eventually if we leave him like this." He touched Billy's chin, wiping away some of the blood and licking his finger clean. His eyes closed briefly in pleasure. "If I hadn't fed on you recently, I'd be ripping his throat out right now." Pan smiled playfully, leaning towards Billy and carefully licking at his mouth and chin, removing the blood. "How much do you love him?" he asked between licks, glancing up at the boy's pained eyes.

"More than I love myself," the boy whispered. "More than I love you."

Peter nodded, sitting back and looking at the two of them thoughtfully. "If I were _my_ sire, I'd kill him now and remove the competition. But instead I'm going to give you a present. What you do with it is up to you… and him."

Mullins watched with distant bemusement as Pan leaned towards him, and he almost didn't hear the boy's whispered question. "No," he answered, his voice weak and shaky. "Don't wanna die." There was a low chuckle and he moaned as lips were once more at his throat, licking and sucking the blood from his body, draining him even further. Robert closed his eyes once more as he felt his life ebbing away.

* * *

Something warm was against his mouth, hot liquid running between his lips. Salty, coppery fluid dripped onto his tongue, and the taste sent fire racing through his body, awakening him from his deathlike stupor. Hunger filled him, an aching emptiness worse than anything he'd felt before, and the warm life at his lips promised fulfillment. His tongue darted out, trying to capture more, and he felt the heat against his mouth press closer.

"There you go," a voice called from the darkness around him. "Drink and live. Live forever."

More of the life-giving liquid flowed into his mouth, and greedily Mullins began to drink. Somehow he found the strength to lift his hands, and he reached for the source of his sustenance. His hands closed around an arm, and he pulled it close against his lips, sucking. Warmth coursed through him, warmth and delicious life, and his heart began pounding once more, rejuvenated.

"Not so fast," the voice chided, and Robert whimpered as the arm was pulled away slightly. But it didn't disappear, and he felt a hand brush his forehead, gently caressing him. "Try not to waste any, I haven't got much to spare after turning Ash."

"He won't like this, Peter," another voice said softly. "He thinks vampires are evil…"

"Then he can go stake himself when he wakes up," Peter snapped. "You can't kill him because you love him, and I care about you too much to take him from you. Since he can't go back to Codfish, this is our only choice. What he does with his second chance is up to him."

Robert listened without caring, the focus of his being on the delicious life-bringing blood flowing into his mouth. He knew it was blood and he didn't care, didn't care about anything but the warmth and strength that was reviving him. Far too soon the source was removed, and he struggled weakly to hold the arm to him so he could continue to feed. His feeble grip was broken and someone pushed him back down, and he heard the one who had succored him swearing softly.

"More," he whispered harshly, trying to open his eyes and failing miserably.

"Ash," Peter called weakly, and Mullins felt a tingling of concern for the boy. "I can't… it's too much…"

More voices mumbled in the darkness, bodies moving around him unseen. The smell of blood was heavy in the air and Robert groaned from the need for more. Consciousness receded again, and this time Mullins fought the nothingness with every fiber of his being. But his hold was tenuous, and once more he slipped into the void.

"Robert?" a familiar voice called, and the man groaned, reluctantly opening his eyes. He saw Ash leaning over him, and he returned the boy's smile of relief. "Can you sit up? Slightly brought you something to drink."

Mullins nodded and tried to sit up, and he mumbled his thanks when Ash and Slightly helped him. He was in the large communal bed, the two boys sitting beside him. At first he didn't see anyone else, but when he looked to his side, he saw Peter lying in the bed beside him, fast asleep. The boy was pale, dark shadows beneath his eyes and his lips completely bloodless. His left wrist was bandaged, and the man could see the spots of blood that had seeped through the cloth. He licked his lips, feeling his stomach gurgle and realized with a start that the sight of the blood was making him hungry.

"How do you feel?" Slightly asked, fetching a pitcher and glass from the table and bringing it to the bed. "You look like death only slightly warmed over."

"I'm…" Robert paused and thought, taking stock of himself. Aside from a slight tiredness and a gnawing thirst, he felt great. He felt like years had slid off him, and despite his exhaustion he felt stronger and more vigorous. His vision was sharp, his hearing alarmingly keen, and his sense of smell…. "What is that?" he asked Slightly, pointing at the pitcher. The aroma coming from it was heady and made his mouth water, but it smelled uncomfortably like blood.

Ash took the jug and glass from Slightly, smiling softly at the boy. "Could you give us a minute? I need to talk to him." Slightly gave him a wry look, glancing pointedly at first Peter then Mullins. "I'll keep an eye on him and I'll protect him," the dark boy said reassuringly.

Slightly still looked a little hesitant, but he nodded and lifted into the air, floating towards the exit. "Wendy's still slightly upset at Peter. Nibs might need some help guarding the entrances… she can't see Peter like this. I'll send Twins to hunt some more food for him when he wakes up." With one more glance at his leader, Slightly left the room.

"You need to drink this, Robert," Ash told him, pouring the glass full of a crimson liquid. Mullin's nostrils flared as the smell washed over him, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Before you even ask, it's blood… rabbit blood. Nibs is skinning the bunny and Wendy'll cook it for supper tonight. It doesn't matter though, you need your strength so drink it and don't argue." He thrust the glass at Mullins, who took it without a word.

"I thought you were gonna kill me, boy," Robert growled as he stared at the blood. He was trying to find his revulsion and failing miserably. He _wanted_ to drink it, he thirsted for it and it smelled so delicious…. Without another thought he brought the glass to his lips and drank, savoring the taste. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

"I couldn't," Ash answered, smiling in huge relief when he saw Robert drink without a complaint. "I didn't want you to die, so Peter brought you back."

"He brought me back as a monster," Robert growled, but there was very little anger behind his words. He didn't _feel_ like a monster. He still felt like himself, just… better. Even more disturbing was the realization that he _liked _it.

"He did it for me, so don't be mad at Peter. I'm weak and I'm a coward because I couldn't let you go." Ash fidgeted with the jug, scraping at an imaginary spot with his fingernail. He couldn't bring himself to look up, afraid to see the anger and loathing in the man's eyes.

"I'm not mad," Robert said, taking another deep drink of the blood. He could really _really_ come to like this, and at that thought he felt a spark of fear. He didn't want to become a soulless bloodsucking monster that began feeding off anything on the island with a pulse. "And yer not a coward for caring, Bil… Ash."

"You're not mad?" Ash repeated, looking up in amazement. "I was afraid… I thought you'd hate me for letting you become a vampire. I was afraid you'd kill us, or stake yourself."

"No, not right now at least. I'm kinda interested in seeing what this might be like." He smiled at the boy, reaching out to pat his friend affectionately on the shoulder. "I thought I'd lost ya, son, and my prayers were answered when I saw you were alive and well. I was given a second chance, and I nearly blew it." He gestured to Peter. "He fed me his blood to change me?"

Ash nodded. "It nearly killed him." At Robert's grunt of surprise, the boy continued. "He was still a little weak from turning me… and a grownup needs more than a kid. He had to stop feeding you before you bled him dry, and we weren't sure if you'd gotten enough to survive. For a little while there, I thought we'd lost you both." Ash bit his lip nervously. "So you're really okay?"

Mullins held out his glass for Ash to refill. "I'm better than okay, lad. I'm a little confused and uneasy over the details, but I'm not about to start ranting about being a monster and preachin' about losin' my soul. I feel damn good, almost like a young man again, and if I don't have to start eating people, I might be able to live with this." He took another drink of his blood, trying not to wonder what human blood might taste like. "So… we can eat food? Is Wendy a good cook?"

Ash giggled in relief, happy that Mullins was accepting this so well. But he thought he knew why, knowing his own reasons for facing his new life with hope instead of despair. They were both survivors and made the best of what life gave them. "Wendy's a damn sight better then Cookson, and I've heard her rabbit stew is really good. She hates skinning the "poor bunnies" though, so Nibs made sure to do it right at her door, to keep her away…" Ash continued to talk, amusing the man with inane gossip about the others and dropping tidbits of information that Robert nodded and stored away for future reference. He drank the blood until his thirst was satisfied, and spared more than a few long glances at the sleeping boy that had sired him.

"I'm _not _wearing bunny ears," Robert warned, holding the rabbit skin with a sneer. "I'm not one of yer Lost Boys, and yer not callin' me 'Floppy'!"

The other boys continued to howl in laughter, and even Wendy was giggling at him. Peter stood before him, his fists on his hips in mock annoyance, his amusement underscored by his exhaustion. "I never said you were one of my boys. I suppose you could be my first Lost _Man_. But you should wear the rabbit ears, they'd make you look less serious. You're far too serious."

"I'm a grownup, and grownups do NOT wear bunny ears… or bunny _anything_!" Mullins snarled, tossing the cap to the ground. "Besides, I thought I had to wear the skin of my first kill. The Twins killed that."

Peter raised an eyebrow, warning Mullins not to say anything more, and the ex-pirate took the hint. Wendy and her brothers were human, a fact his heightened senses made plain to him now. Not only were they still human, they had absolutely no idea they were living with a pack of vampires. Mullins couldn't fault the three children for their ignorance – aside from an occasional need for blood, there was nothing about these boys that would tip anyone off about their true natures. Their eternal youth was chalked up to Neverland's magic, and that magic protected them from most of their vampiric weaknesses.

Peter shook his head at Mullins, too tired to carry the joke as far as he otherwise might have. He was regaining his strength, but it had only been one day since he'd turned Robert and he still had a long way to go. "You don't have to do that, we're just picking on you. But I would like you to wear this," he pulled out a necklace from his pocket and tossed it to Mullins, who caught it with a look of surprise. "It's a lucky rabbit foot, from the rabbit whose skin you don't want. I thought you might wear that instead. And I think your new name will be Lucky."

"I've got a perfectly good name already," Mullins growled, but he slipped the necklace on with a smile.

"Would you rather we call you 'Dad'?" Nibs challenged. The other boys picked up on the name immediately, shouting at the man laughingly, asking "dad" for this or that.

"Fine, you can call me Lucky, then," Mullins growled. There was no way in hell he'd act the part of a father to these urchins. Uncle, perhaps, or big brother, but _not_ a father. "But I'm keepin' my last name, and to the rest of the island I'm still Robert Mullins."

The other boys cheered when Peter nodded his agreement to the concession, and the subject quickly changed to "what do you want to do today". Mullins tuned out of the conversation, not caring what silly games the children played. Eventually they decided on something and left, and in the silence Mullins looked up to discover Peter and Ash had stayed behind. He stretched and went to the newly-installed ladder, looking forward to some peace and quiet. He was going to find himself a nice private spot to put a house, and Ash and Twins had agreed help him build it when he'd found a place. There was never a question in his mind about going back to the ship. He was done with Hook.

"Don't go near any people today," Peter said softly, and Mullins turned with a start. "You'll be tempted, so it's better not to be around them. If you start feeding on humans, the fairies will come and destroy you. They let us stay here because we don't need human blood, and if you get them angry they might decide to get rid of all of us for good measure. Tink still says I shouldn't have made you, because of that fear. Please don't prove her right."

"Trust me, I've no desire to be around any pirates right now, and the Indians would probably scalp me if I got too close. I want some peace and quiet; you brats are too damn noisy." Mullins began climbing the ladder, grunting with annoyance when he saw the two boys hovering to either side of him. "What?" he snapped.

"Can I come too?" Ash asked, smiling. "I'll help you scout out a good spot. Might even find a place close enough that we can dig a tunnel between your house and ours, so we can visit all the time."

"Heaven forbid," Mullins growled as he reached the surface.

Peter chuckled as he drifted back to the floor, alone now in the underground house. He could hear Ash and Lucky chattering as they walked away, bantering back and forth, and it was a good thing to hear. He'd been afraid he'd have to kill Mullins anyway, if the man hadn't accepted his turning. But Billy Jukes and Robert Mullins were strong, and they'd both clung to life no matter the cost long before they'd ever come to Neverland's shores. Now the only question was whether he could keep a leash on Lucky's adult appetites and ensure he didn't become a man-eater. He'd have to keep an eye on Ash too, now that the boy had tasted human blood. None of the other Lost Boys had ever done so, and Peter wanted to keep it that way.

The boy sighed, going to his bed to rest. It had taken a _lot_ more out of him that he cared to admit, and he needed to recuperate as fast as possible so he could keep an eye on the two newest additions to his family. He wasn't worried, though. He'd handled problems much bigger than this in his long existence. The danger made things more interesting and the higher the stakes the better. And with those two, the stakes were the lives of all his lost boys and his own continued existence in Neverland. He thought of Ash and smiled. The danger was worth it.


End file.
